The Twilight 25 - Round 10
by EffulgentEllie
Summary: Entries based off of picture prompts from Round Ten for The Twilight 25. These are one-shots only and will be 1000 words or more, not including author's notes and titles. Some dark and some fluff. Enjoy!
1. Sunsets And Memories

**THE TWILIGHT TWENTY-FIVE:** thetwilight25 dot com  
 **PROMPT:** #01 /round-ten/prompts/01-3/  
 **MAIN CHARACTER / PAIRING:** Bella / Bella X Edward  
 **RATING:** PG  
 **WORD COUNT:** 1,170

* * *

 **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Twilight or anything associated with the Twilight Universe. I'm just playing around and no copyright infringement is intended. The only things that belong to me are my original characters and the plot.

* * *

 **BPOV**

The sand feels amazing between my toes. Small, warm grains slide around my feet and I smile. It seems like such a simple thing, but it's so much more.

Its warm sand and sunsets and summer memories. It's a group of friends and a volleyball net and days filled with laughter.

I love the sun and the beach and the waves, but I love the memories the most.

Memories of first days of summer. Watching friends pile out of old first cars, swim suits on under short shorts and tank tops with beach towels in hand. Coolers being drug from hot back seats to even hotter sandy beaches. Wide smiles and wider eyes full of excitement and newly found freedom.

Memories of new love. Stolen kisses and innocent touches followed by rosy cheeks and shy smiles. There were bases rounded and first times shared and walking fine lines that separated childhood innocence and coming of age.

My eyes scan the waves as they crash towards the shore, sweeping layers of sand away only to bring it back moments later.

I smile again, more memories flooding my mind as I sway with the salty breeze brought forth by the ocean.

Memories of awe-inspired envy. Watching strong arms and sleek backs and talented surfers tame even stronger waves. The silence that fell over the crowd when stunts were pulled and the cheering that followed for neat tricks and first timers.

Memories of courage. Paddling out to depths beyond the imagination and balancing on boards meant for one but holding two. Conquering fears and standing tall and falling fast and hard and laughing once you surfaced. Of deep breaths and salty waters and sunburned cheeks and noses.

I continue my trek down the beach, loving every second. There is sand and shells and a memory under each step.

Memories of games along the sandy shore. Running and stumbling and laughing. Looking over your shoulder and wondering how they've caught up so quickly. There were heaving breaths and smiling faces alongside sun warmed skin.

Memories of serious walks and serious talks. Hashing out issues with best friends and mortal enemies and first time loves. Holding hands and kicking sand and making plans for the future with people you swore to spend the rest of your life with.

A group of college kids run ahead of me, much further down the beach, and I watch as they slowly disappear into the distance.

They look to be truly enjoying themselves and were probably working on a fire to combat the oncoming night. I'm floored with more.

Memories of college nights. Of setting suns and chilling sands and cool winds. Collecting driftwood for bond fires and logs for seating. There were kumbayas and songs and stories and even more serious talks.

Memories of all-nighters and well deserved breaks. The nights were star filled and moonbeams set the sky on fire. There were fried minds and stressed students and the ever-lasting comfort of cooling sand between toes.

There was always a reason to go to the beach and that statement still rings true.

Where the earth meets the ocean is a place for every occasion. Happy or sad. Young or old.

Memories of graduation and another chapter closed. There were bitter sweet congratulations and long lasting goodbyes. Followed by monthly meet ups and promises to never lose touch, but it was eventually lost.

Memories of growing up. Watching interests change from paddling out to relaxing on the sand and laughing at skills lost but feeling sorrow despite the smile on your face. There were jabs made and pranks pulled and a sense of holding onto lost youth.

But people age. They change.

And so did we.

Memories of a first date. Watching you fumble over sweet words and give sweet promises with sweet smelling flowers. Chocolate covered lips and melting ice cream and wide smiles with loud laughs.

Memories of bent knees and special questions. There was plenty of planning and worrying and wondering and it was all for nothing because it was sandy winds and not so perfect whether that rained. Drenched clothes and chattering teeth and there was still a bent knee with ring in hand.

We kept our spot just ours. We shared it with no one and it never changed.

Sure, people came and went. It saw good times and bad, but it was always ours.

Memories of first fights. Screaming to be heard but never hearing the other. Sandy fists and harsh words. There were tears and sorries and storming off, but only for a moment.

Memories of wedding bells. Bare foot and white clad and sun hats. Walking down a short aisle to a small ceremony of friends and family. Beaming smiles and tear-filled eyes and tissues passed around.

The families begin to pack up their belongings around me and I watch as young children rush back to waiting mothers.

Sand is dusted off of sunscreen protected skin and I chuckle.

Memories of baby's firsts. From first day to first paddle to first bonfire. Slathered in sunscreen and shielded from rays and still laughing the entire time.

Memories of new meanings of first days of summer. Family trips that were filled with large sheets and industrial coolers and cases of sunblock for the little ones. There were screaming children and exhausted parents and we wouldn't have had it any other way.

But the years fly by and the beach becomes second to most.

There are recitals and practices and dinner to be made. School and work and five minutes of alone time.

Memories of high school graduations, but not for us. Understanding why parents cry and watching babies grow into adults. Wondering if they turned out all right but knowing you did the best you could.

Memories of empty homes. Colleges and moving out and summer jobs, but not for us. Blurs of more graduations and weddings and even more serious talks. Grandchildren and a new generation and wondering what the future holds.

Our spot hasn't changed and I slide my aged body to the sand. It still feels amazing.

The ceramic in my hands is slick and is quickly cooling with the fading sun, but that's okay. Because I'll always have more.

Memories of reliving the first days of summers. Making new promises and whispering more sweet words and laughing at the past.

Memories of new firsts and lasts. Holding hands and serious walks with serious talks and beach side games, just a bit slower. There were kisses and waves and silence and cheering and it was wonderful.

You're gone now and you asked to be taken to our spot one last time. Here I am. You in my arms, cold ceramic and a plate with your name that doesn't resemble the smiling face I remember.

But all of that's okay because I'll always have the sun and the beach and the waves and my memories. And I'll always love my memories the most until I join you again one day.


	2. Waiting

**THE TWILIGHT TWENTY-FIVE:** thetwilight25 dot com  
 **PROMPT:** #02  
 **MAIN CHARACTER / PAIRING:** Edward / Bella X Edward  
 **RATING:** PG  
 **WORD COUNT:** 1,564

* * *

 **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Twilight or anything associated with the Twilight Universe. I'm just playing around and no copyright infringement is intended. The only things that belong to me are my original characters and the plot.

* * *

 **EPOV**

Waiting. It was all I ever did on Tuesdays. Many wouldn't think of the day as anything special. It didn't mark the beginning, middle, or end of a work week. It didn't signify that is was time to relax and enjoy the weekend. No. It was just a Tuesday and many went about their days as normal.

But not I. No. I rushed home in my average car from my average job and waited. Being surrounded by rows of metal on wooden planks became the norm for me. Each box dented and scuffed and weathered and crooked and full of its own individual character, but mine was special.

Mine was a blue the color of the sea and it stood at the very beginning of the line. It signified, in all its scratched and aged glory, that it was time to check the mail, to see what others had sent to this lonely town in Washington. And Tuesdays were special.

Tuesdays were when I received what I waited for all week. A special letter from a special woman who I had never met but wished to do so. I would wait by my imperfect mailbox, along the row of dented metal and raised red flags. I would wait in rain or snow, sleet or hail, and it felt as if I had taken the post office oath myself.

Eventually, my saving grace would come. A white mail truck full of letters and packets, bills and surprises. Roger, the mailman, would step out of his truck and sling a heavy bag of letters over his shoulder. Even he began to see me as a fixture amonst the boxes, a guaranteed statue that joined his route every Tuesday.

I offered him a smile as he approached and, as what had become the norm, he reached into the bag and pulled out my bunch of mail first. He smiled in return, we waved a quick good-bye, and I was off. Homeward to dig through paper treasure for one special envelope.

It was always there, every Tuesday, smack in the middle of white bills and junk mail. She preferred pastel colors, gentle and soothing and warm. The envelope was normal a pale pink, powder blue, or dusty forest green. That alone brought a smile to my face.

Never, not before her, would I describe colors as such, but she was adamant. She swore there was a difference in shades of blue. Even the sky had different names for different colors. Each leaf and field of grass was its own shade of green. Nature, she had said, was beautiful and it should never be taken for granted.

I pulled the envelope out of the stack and smiled at the green tone. It was my favorite color and she knew that. After carefully breaking the seal and opening the flap, I pulled a cream sheet of paper from its confines.

Written in elegant script was her letter, addressed to me.

 _Dearest Edward,_

 _As always, I hope this letter finds you well. Did you know that today, the Tuesday you will receive my letter, will mark our three year anniversary._

 _Is it an anniversary, though? I feel as if I have always known you, though we have never met. When I close my eyes I see a handsome man with green eyes and bronze hair. I see a smile that lifts higher on one side than the other and strong hands to hold me close._

 _I know we could phone or text or meet, but I feel as though the magic would be lost. However, my soul aches to see you. To touch you and feel you and validate that you are real._

 _Sometimes, during the week, while I'm waiting on your letter like a mad woman, I wonder if I made you up. I wonder if you are a figment of my imagination, but that can't be right. Because you are too kind and loving and sweet to be concocted from the depths of my mind._

 _I will leave you now, before I begin rambling, going off on tangents of the maddest kind. Know that you are cared for and loved. Happy anniversary._

 _Your Isabella_

Her letter was rejuvenating. They always felt as if a breath of fresh air filled my lungs, giving me the will to push through another dreadful week until the next Tuesday came.

I pulled a pen and piece of paper out of my desk and began my return letter. I addressed it to "My Dearest Isabella" and finished my reply with "Your Edward", just as she had done. It was small and it may not have meant the same to my special pen pal, but it signified that I was hers at heart.

After dropping my letter off in the mailbox I went about my week as normal. I trudged through an average job, drove my average car, and had average dinners alone until Tuesday came again.

Just like the previous week, I waited amongst dented metal and wooden planks for Roger the mail man. There were smiles and good-byes exchanged before I was off, homeward once again to receive my weekly fix from a special woman.

Except there was no letter.

My chest clenched and my breathing labored. Something wasn't right. Not once had we missed a week. Not because of school or work or prior commitments. Nothing stood between our exchange because we always found time for the other.

But I needed to believe there was a reason, so I calmed my nerves and wrote a letter, keeping to my same routine. I addressed it the same and questioned why I never received a reply and ended it as "Your Edward".

Another week and another failed reply. I couldn't meet Roger when pleasant smiles and good wishes. I snatched the bundle of letters from his hand and shifted through them on the spot, but there was nothing.

Weeks progressed the same. I would return a letter every Tuesday, but nothing ever came until one day it did.

My heart dropped when I pulled the packet from Roger's hand and found a crisp, white envelope in the middle with my Isabella's return address. You would think I would be pleased, but already, deep in my heart, I knew this wasn't right.

The rest of the mail fell to the wayside, hitting soggy earth from last night's rain storm, as I slid my finger and broke the seal. Another white paper fell from the envelope and my chest began to tighten.

The script was elegant and lovely, but it wasn't my Isabella's. It was wrong. All wrong.

 _Dear Edward,_

 _I struggled weather I should write you a letter or not. Isabella, or as the family calls her, Bella, spoke fondly of you whenever she had the chance._

 _My name is Mary-Alice, but please, just call me Alice. I am Bella's sister and I have heard a lot about you, but I've been watching as your letters piled up and I felt you deserved to know._

 _Bella, Isabella, passed away three weeks ago. I'm not sure if you would like to know the details, I've never had to do something like this and I still mourn for my sister._

 _It was a drunk driver. She was driving home from the post office and taken by surprise. The doctor's promise she didn't suffer and I want to believe them, but it's hard._

 _I know she cared for you, loved you just as you seemed to love her. Rest easy that I didn't open any of your letters that were returned. Your conversations with my sister will remain your own._

 _I like to believe she is with you now and I want you to know that, if you ever need a friend or someone to talk to, I am here. Because of Isabella, I feel as if I have known you my entire life, that you are one of the family already._

 _Please, mourn her loss and let her go. She would want you to be happy, to live your life. Take care._

 _Mary-Alice_

My heart dropped to my stomach and shattered into a thousand pieces. I felt sick and faint and as if my world had been ripped from me.

There would be no more Tuesdays spent waiting or meet ups with Roger the mail man or sweet smelling pastel envelopes or elegant words. No more hope of future meetings or visions of chocolate eyes and darker hair. No more Isabella.

I shook and gagged and couldn't help the rage that built inside my soul. My hand reached out, grasping the first thing in its path. It wrapped around scratched, sea blue paint and scuffed metal and pulled.

The mailbox that was once my saving grace, that once held my weekly fix, came crumbling down a lot easier than you would think. My foot followed after it, caving the metal in on itself as horrid noises filled the air.

I would never be the same. I was touched and changed by special letters from a special woman who I had never met but wished to do so. Now I would never be able to.

My knees buckled and I joined the carnage amidst the muddy earth. I was a lonely man made even lonelier and I was waiting. Waiting. It was all I ever did on Tuesdays.


	3. Family Portraits

**THE TWILIGHT TWENTY-FIVE:** thetwilight25 dot com  
 **PROMPT:** #03  
 **MAIN CHARACTER / PAIRING:** Bella  
 **RATING:** PG  
 **WORD COUNT:** 1,042

* * *

 **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Twilight or anything associated with the Twilight Universe. I'm just playing around and no copyright infringement is intended. The only things that belong to me are my original characters and the plot.

* * *

 **Bella POV**

It's the dreaded day and I should be excited. Actually, I feel guilty more than anything because I'm not over the moon. We're having family pictures taken. Professionally, of course. My husband, the art graduate, wouldn't have it any other way.

Whites and pastels are the color palette and nature will be the scene. All of that, I don't mind so much. A powder pink skirt and white top are perfect for me even though my body pushes my attire at its seams.

That's the upsetting part.

I feel fat and bloated and miserable. My hair, which used to fall in delicate, natural waves between my shoulders, feels stringy and unhealthy. My boobs are popping out of a shirt that used to fit me two weeks ago and my feet are so swollen I can barely walk.

Did I mention I was seven months pregnant? No? Well, I am. And I'm beyond miserable.

Our first child, Renesmee, was an easy pregnancy. With barely any morning sickness, little weight gained, and a delivery that was spot on time, I basked in my pregnancy glow. She was perfectly easy to carry and I loved every moment of it.

This one, not so much. I swear the kid is trying to kill me sometimes. Even with reassuring words from my husband who constantly promises I'm still the most beautiful thing he's seen, I still can't look past what's in the mirror.

A pale complexion mostly from the constant nausea, bags under my eyes from lack of sleep, and cheeks that scream to the world that I've definitely put on pregnancy weight stare back at me. I could even get past the looks and extra weight, as long as the baby was healthy, but the constant sickness drags me down.

However, like every other day, I get up with a false pep in my step.

My daughter, being the ball of energy she is in her toddler years, bounces in to the room in an adorable white sundress. I get ready to compliment her on what was obviously picked out by her father, but she stops dead in her tracks.

Her eyes narrow to tiny slits and if I didn't know any better I would be terrified as she slapped a fist on her hip and stuck her pointer finger in the air. "Mama, we 'sposed to match!"

The sigh I received from her afterwards meant I should have obviously known better, but before I can offer to change, which I'm more than willing to do, she flounces back out of the room.

I stuff saltine crackers in my purse, gather my things, and slide my sandals on. How I look will just have to do. I'm sure I could be wearing a potatoe sack and my husband will still tell me I'm beautiful, then dress our daughter to match after she pouts.

At the bottom of the steps, in front of the back door, stands my little family. Edward swings his head around and points up at me, showing our daughter that I'm on my way. Sure enough, she had changed to match and was wearing a pink, frilly skirt and white top, but her beautiful red curls were adorned with a flowered head band.

Too adorable.

I smile again and this time I mean the expression on my face because even though I'm sick and miserable, I love my little family.

Renesmee swings her arms out to me and gives me a tight hug, but doesn't dare jump into my arms. She does, however, lean down and place a gentle kiss on my ever growing belly before she whispers an "I love you" to her unborn brother.

We pile into a mini-van we swore we would never own and head out towards a field that we'll surely spend the larger part of the day in.

It's beautiful, there is no doubting that. My husband has an aesthetic eye and knows exactly what he's doing, that much is for sure. We arrive on time and greet the photographer, a friend of Edward's from college.

She's a tiny thing, even shorter than me, and bounces around with more energy than my toddler. Alice, as I learn her name is, directs us here and there and everywhere as she snaps pictures and does silly stunts to get our daughter to smile.

At noon, we break for lunch. A picnic I brought because I'm a just in case kind of person. Prepared for anything while hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Alice joins us and it turns into catch up for the college graduates.

Renesmee begins to wander off, bored with her daddy's stories of long ago antics. I rock and wobble and eventually get up with the help of my gracious husband so I may join her. We look at the scenery and nature and the beauty of it all. The world through her eyes is amazing.

My misery and nausea falls to the way side as we enjoy the warm sun and the smell of green grass and nature surrounding us. We discover a small stream and the wildlife within it and my little girl is struck mute by how fast a frog's tongue is.

I giggle as I watch her imitate the animals, learning new and fun and exciting things on a normal day. It's a beautiful sight and I'm in awe at the amazing person we created, because that is what she is. Amazing.

My finger trails over my stomach, the skin more tender than my prior pregnancy, but that's okay. I am nauseous and sick and always tired, but I know, deep in my soul, that he will be worth it.

After a few more moments of slick rocks under tender feet, my daughter joins me by the edge and we make our way back to the field. Her hand is tight in mine when she stops us in our tracks and tugs my arm to get my attention.

She places a gentle hand on my stomach and whispers, "I love you, both, mama." I give a quick glance down to meet her bright gaze and can't help but smile. I know because I love the both of them, as well.


	4. We Are Gods

**THE TWILIGHT TWENTY-FIVE:** thetwilight25 dot com  
 **PROMPT:** #04  
 **MAIN CHARACTER / PAIRING:** Edward  
 **RATING:** M  
 **WORD COUNT:** 1,018

* * *

 **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Twilight or anything associated with the Twilight Universe. I'm just playing around and no copyright infringement is intended. The only things that belong to me are my original characters and the plot.

* * *

 **Edward POV**

I was buzzing.

My body was humming with excitement and adrenaline and power beyond any mortal's comprehension.

The static in the air charged my very soul and I felt alive for the first time in centuries. This was the storm I had been waiting for. The storm signifying that my love had awakened.

Finally.

I ran through forests and cities, dirt and concrete. Everything in my path was destroyed in my haste to get to her. I couldn't wait any longer. Not now that she was freed from her slumber.

I awoke years ago, a sleeping titan in an average body, but don't be fooled. My power exceeded anything the world had seen, yet I still wasn't complete.

Not without her.

She was the other half to my soul. The soaring winds and piercing rain to my cracking thunder and charged lightning.

Apart, we were powerful, forces of nature that pushed the earth to its limit. Together, we were unstoppable. We could bring this planet and its sniveling inhabitants to their knees with our combined force.

My bare feet trekked over normally harsh landscapes, but I was never deterred, my body not feeling anything but the hum in my bones. She was calling to me, singing a siren's song of lost love and unsatisfied lust.

I would give her both.

Earth and ocean moved beneath me at a pace far too fast for human sight to follow. Animals, predators of the largest kind, coward long before my arrival in anticipation of my passing through.

Good. Bow before me. Anticipate my needs and move aside, for I am mighty. Cower and you shall know mercy, but do not stand against me because nothing would deter me from my love.

My blood was vibrating violently as my approach grew closer. I could taste her scent on my tongue. She was in the heavy clouds in the sky and the slick rain that began to pour.

The smell of her arousal grew stronger and I paused my movements. Oceans away from where I began and miles from civilization she stood alone, a statue of flesh and bone in the midst of nothingness.

Her pale skin shined blue from the moon's light with heavy locks of dark brown hair plastered to her face, shoulders, and back. The rain fell harder where she stood and her body was slick from the down pour.

My pace never slowed as she turned her head, locking eyes with me, and I knew. I could feel my life, my soul, all snapping back into place.

I waited for her and now she was mine again.

My body crashed into hers and a loud, thunderous crack echoed through the empty landscape, surely heard from miles away. I slammed my lips to hers and wrapped my fingers in her drenched hair.

It felt so good, so right.

Just her touch made me feel complete, as if I could finally breathe, but I needed more. I needed satisfaction, her around me in the best possible way.

As always, our minds were in sync. Her legs crawled up my sides and pinned her body to my hips. She filled my mouth with kisses and moans. Who was I to deny this heavenly being?

My hands slid back and cupped her ass. I squeezed and kneaded and enjoyed every second of contact before I slid her back and slammed her forward.

Her head fell back, an expression of pure euphoria etched across her brow line as my cock slid into her warmth.

Pure fucking heaven.

I struggled to keep my knees from buckling, to keep us upright, but it was no use. We collapsed to the soggy earth and I surrendered to our passion.

We were all fumbling hands and slick skin as I pistoned my cock in and out of her, spurred on by her throaty moans and pleas for more and harder and faster. She would get what she wanted. Anything she asked for, I would give it to her.

The faster we moved and the harder we fucked the more the storm around us grew. Thunder and lightning cracked around us as piercing winds and bone chilling rain fell, but we felt nothing but each other.

My hands moved erratically from her hips to her breasts to her hair. I gripped every part of her body to solidify her awakening in my mind. She sucked my thumb into her mouth, twirling her velvet tongue around my digit and teased it as if it were my cock.

The fucking minx.

A growl escaped from deep within my throat. I pulled my hand from her mouth and covered it with my own instead. Our kisses grew heated as tongues battled for dominance. Her taste slid down my throat and I groaned at the sheer feeling of it.

We gripped and moaned and tossed and turned. Our bodies were splattered with mud and soaked with rain and I loved every fucking second of it.

Her fingers gripped tightly into my shoulder as she buried her head in my neck. Teeth met flesh as her climax rolled through her, causing her body to shake violently with its force.

I struggled to continue my course, but my thrusts became erratic with every pulse her center made around my cock. She released her hold on my skin and her head fell back, blissful, as I reached my climax. A roar fell from my lips, drowned out by claps of thunder and pouring rain.

This was what I waited for. Centuries of loneliness and aching and it was all worth it. We rolled, facing the blackened sky and torrent whether, letting rain and wind sweep over us while she curled into my side.

We were titans. Powerful, strong, and influential. Immortal souls in everlasting bodies. Put to rest centuries ago and fighting to come back to each other. A love so grand even the heavens couldn't separate us. Though, they tried, but they would pay because now we are more.

We are the rain and the wind and the thunder and the lightning.

We are gods.


	5. With My Girls

**THE TWILIGHT TWENTY-FIVE:** thetwilight25 dot com  
 **PROMPT:** #05  
 **MAIN CHARACTER / PAIRING:** Bella  
 **RATING:** T  
 **WORD COUNT:** 1,283

* * *

 **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Twilight or anything associated with the Twilight Universe. I'm just playing around and no copyright infringement is intended. The only things that belong to me are my original characters and the plot.

* * *

 **Bella POV**

I let a satisfied sigh leave my lips and smiled because I was at the beach with my girls, my gang, my clique… whatever you wanted to call them. It didn't matter because we were spread out on over-sized towels, drinks buried in the sand beside us, and the afternoon sun bright in the sky.

Alice, my sister from another mister, was sprawled out beside me. Her extremely petite frame took little space between Rose and me and normally made her self-conscious. It was a crazy notion because she and Jasper got into some crazy shit. Sexually that was. But apparently, today her body issues were of no importance. Today she was all skimpy bikini, lanky limbs, and spread eagle. Go her! However, I'm sure that was probably due to a prior pep talk from the girl on her other side.

Rosalie was the epitome of the blonde bomb-shell. She was all bust and but with even more brain. The girl was a mechanical genius in sexy attire and fuck-me boots and today she was flaunting it. She sported a bikini made from fabric scraps, sun-glasses too large for her face, and the latest issue of _Popular Mechanics_. She was the average man's wet dream.

We were a trio. A group of friends from diaper days and we always stuck together. The femme fatale musketeers. All for one, one for all, and all that jazz.

The sun on my face felt amazing and the girls must have agreed because we hadn't spoken since we settled in. Rose with her magazine, Alice with her iPod, and me with my favorite book, _Wuthering Heights_. I was mid-sentence of one of my favorite parts in Chapter 15 when Rosalie interrupts my train of thought.

"Emmett and I made love last night."

It felt as if the entire beach stopped. Alice pulled her ear buds out and I lowered my book as we shared a look. I was positive our expressions matched because we were both beyond confused. Emmett and Rose had already done the deed, so to speak. They fucked before their first date and were constantly at it like rabbits. Public displays of affection meant nothing to them and they flaunted their attraction for each other openly. So, what, exactly, was she getting at?

The silence stretched as Alice and I stared and I'm sure our gaze could have burned a hole in the side of her pretty little head, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. After another solid minute with no response from our blonde friend, I couldn't take it anymore.

"What the hell, Rose?!" My voice sounded harsher in the prior silence than I mean, but Alice's head bobbed along, emphasizing my point even more.

She let out a small sigh that seemed to be a mix between slight annoyance and knowing she would have to face the inevitable explanation that follows a statement like hers. That irritated me, but I was more curious about the random fact she blurted out moments ago.

She put her magazine aside, pushed her over-sized sunglasses to the top of her head, and stared at us. "I said, Emmett and I made love last night. Jesus. From the look on your faces you would have thought I just confessed to mass murder or something."

This time we were silent. It wasn't the sex sharing that stunned us. We were best friends and there were no limits to our over share. Hell, Alice called the both of us up the day after she lost her virginity. Now that was a day filled with awkward questions and giggling. To be fair, we were in high school.

We were more stunned because Rose didn't do love. She did cars and men, fighting and fucking, but not love. Long ago, during a sleep deprived slumber party, she even swore she would never settle down, never live with a guy, and definitely never marry. She wanted an education and a career, we all did, but she was adamant that that was all she wanted.

Then Emmett came along. He was the older cousin of my then boyfriend and current fiancé, Edward. The man was a bear, but acted like a child and fell for my friend almost instantly. He was fun, smart, and handsome. He dug cars, called her Rosie, and was her perfect match. But she didn't do love and he was told that over and over again from the very beginning.

"We heard you, Rose, but what does that mean?"

I was pretty sure I knew exactly what she meant, but it was always best to get the words straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak. Plus, Alice was still nodding along with whatever I said. The goof.

Her reply was a lot more forward than I expected, but I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, Rose was one of a kind; beautiful, strong-willed, and straight forward.

"It means that I love Emmett and we're moving in together. Well, technically he's moving in with me, above my garage."

We let another beat of silence rest as we absorbed the information. Most friends may have made a big deal of such a drastic change, but, truth be told, we all saw it coming. The two of them had been exclusive to the other since our sophomore year of college. They circled each other and gravitated to the other and shared looks that only those in love can share. Emmett just had to get her to see it.

Instead of fussing and cooing and talking about all things love, we pulled three long necks from their sandy confines and popped them open. The crisp sound of the liquid made my mouth water in anticipation.

With our bottles raised to the clear sky, I smiled and tipped my head in acknowledgement. "To Rose and Emmett and the joys of learning to share your space!"

Alice grinned and cackled after tapping the lip of her glass to mine then Rose's. "Here, here! To Bella and Edward and being the first of us to take the plunge!"

We laughed and agreed. Rose adjusted herself and clanked both of our bottles one last time. "To Alice and Jasper and whatever kinky shit they're into this week!"

"Here, here!" I threw my head back and laughed with my girls. My stomach muscles ached and the drinks were refreshing and spirits were high as we settled back in to our comfortable positions in silence.

I was no more than a couple of sentences in to Chapter 16 when Alice scrunched her thing brows together and huffed in frustration.

"What does having a hard on actually feel like?"

I raised my own brow in confusion. Partly because I wonder why my friends and I couldn't have a normal conversation and partly because it was a valid question. Rose sputtered out a startled laugh as she thought it through. Leave it to Alice to blur out the most random shit, but in true best friend fashion, we rolled with the conversation.

"I would think it was fucking amazing because of the way they act when you touch it." Rose gave a firm nod to end her conclusion, satisfied with her answer.

My head bobbed in agreement because she made a valid argument. The girl had a point and Alice must have agreed as well because she, too, gave a curt nod and shoved her ear buds back in, content to fall back into companionable silence. Who was I to argue? I was just a girl enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face with my best friends by my side.

It was a good fucking day.


End file.
